The Oldest Page
by WildMageKnight
Summary: This is a story of Neal and his adventures beside Kel in First Test. It begins before he made the decision to become a knight. It's rated M for possible gore and imaginings that go on inside a 15 year old boy's mind.


This is a story of Neal and his adventures beside Kel in First Test. It begins before he made the decision to become a knight.

**Disclaimer:** Sadly, this all belongs to Lady Pierce except for the names of Neal's family, which I made up because I don't think they were ever mentioned. Also, I don't think it was ever explicity stated how Neal's brothers died, but this is always how I assumed it happened. But by all means, correct me if I am wrong.

~WildMageKnight~

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – The War<strong>

A tall fourteen year old youth sat at the back of the classroom staring off into space, bored by the shaven-headed Mithran priest in an ugly orange robe, who was lecturing the class about ethics. His light brown hair was ruffled, which was unusual for the normally neatly presented boy and his emerald eyes were dull from lack of sleep. His clothes were crumpled because he had rolled into bed the previous night, exhausted, and rolled out again this morning to rush to class. Everybody in his class was like this and the priest kept slapping his cane on the desk out the front to wake the mage students who had fallen asleep.

The university was training the students all forms of magic, but Neal's specialisation was healing. They were all doing extra hours of work and practice due to the war going on around the kingdom between the Tortallans and its enemies. There had been many wars in Tortall's history, but none like this one. The enemy had many of the newly released immortals on their side, causing deaths and injuries in record numbers. Students in their final two years had been sent to war along with the squires and older pages, accompanied by their teachers. There had already been news of deaths among those who had left the palace to support the fully trained knights and mages. The mages at the palace and at the City of the Gods were being fast tracked to replace the ones who died in the war.

_This ethics class is a bloody waste of time if they want us to be proper mages in just a year and a half, _Neal thought. Nobody else knew the exact reason behind their new hectic work pace, but many had guessed correctly. His father, Duke Baird of Queenscove who was also the chief of the realm's healers, told Neal the Head of the University's plans. They had spoken briefly before his father had gone to war with the healer students.

The door to the theatre loudly creaked open, interrupting the priest's rather long speech about book learning versus practice when doing magic and what it means for each discipline. A trainee palace messenger stood in the open doorway.

"Is there a reason you are interrupting my lecture. Come on speak up," the priest said when the boy didn't relay his message immediately.

The boy nervously cleared his throat. "I have a message for the student Nealan of Queenscove, sir. His father The Duke wishes to see him right away sir."

"I am not addressed as sir, I am a priest, not a knight. The student Nealan of Queenscove is dismissed. Please leave quietly." The priest was eager to get back to his lecture.

Everybody expected Neal to make an overly dramatic remark, such as, 'I am free of this boredom. My dear friends I will think of you.' These remarks more often than not get him into trouble with the teachers. Neal was too tired to even function, let alone think of witty remarks. Moreover, he was troubled about what his father wanted. He left the room without making a sound, much to the disappointment of his fellow students who would have found it a highlight of their day.

Neal quickly navigated the castle, to his father's office. He used all the shortcuts he knew from living at the palace for almost all of his 15 years. He made his way through to the back of the palace hospital and knocked softly on the door to his father's office. He heard a muffled reply and entered. The shock left him staring dumbly at his father. His father was like a ghost of his former self. The Duke had lost more weight than was healthy for a man his age and his hair had more grey in it then when they parted over a month ago. The man looked sick with exhaustion but he also looked sad. He was slumped in his chair behind his desk. Staring at two helmets and swords sitting on his desk.

Neal looked at them and recognised the pattern on the hilt of the closest one as his older brother, Emry's sword. The other sword Neal knew well because it had belonged to his second oldest brother Jassom, who was twenty three this year, closer in age to Neal than Emry, who was in his late twenties. When Jassom was home during the holidays he would give Neal a couple of lessons with his sword. Neal walked over to the desk and collapsed into the chair facing his father.

"When? How?" His voice broke.

"They were fighting side by side, I am told, two fierce warriors. Cut down many of the enemy. They were then overwhelmed by winged-apes with axes and swords. When the enemy finally moved away, some of the soldiers went and fetched their bodies." Duke Baird sighed. "I got word of their deaths and travelled straight away, leaving the students with my deputy. They were put on a funeral pyre and then their ashes were collected." He pointed to two metal jars on his desk that Neal hadn't noticed before now. "Their bodies wouldn't have made the trip home, so they can't be buried."

They sat in stunned silence for a while. Neal couldn't stop staring at the urns. His brothers were both tall and muscular, there had always seemed so much of them when they bear hugged him, or tackled him to the ground in wrestling practice. Now they fit into two jars. He would never be able to have debates with Emry or talk about girls with Jassom. Memories of his two older brothers swirled around in his head for what seemed like an eternity. He remembered some of the tricks that Jassom played on him and all the bruises Emry gave him just because he was bored. Somehow, these just seemed so trivial now. Mostly, Neal remembered all the good times.

"Come here my son." The Duke said standing up. Neal looked at his father and saw tear streaks down his dusty face. He could feel wetness on his own face. He ran to his father's embrace. They hugged tightly, like someone was going to rip them apart. _This is nice_, Neal thought. His father didn't really hug any of his children, his mother often said it was because he was brought up in a different time, when men were supposed to emotionless figures, and even then he would be considered liberal with his emotions.

"Neal, I have neglected my duties as a father, to you and my younger children. You have not been given a father's love, rather an old man's ideology of respect. Please forgive me and allow me to begin to start doing right by you all." His father's voice grave and pleading.

"What?" Neal stammered, shocked. "Don't be ridiculous. Emry and Jassom knew you loved them, as all of the rest of us know you love us." Neal was angry now. Anger was the easiest emotion to identify in the swirling emotions in his heart.

"My son. I have realised that my two older sons knew that I loved them, but only after years of your mother reassuring them that I did. One of my regrets is that I never actually said it to them before they left us all for the Black God's realm. But I promise to them and to you, that I will not lose anymore of you before make up for lost time."

Neal was about to interrupt again, but the duke shook his head and continued.

"Neal, I love you and I am so proud of you, my son. You remind me so much of myself and that just makes my heart lift. I take pleasure in your success in your magic and even in your sword lessons. As I share your struggles with failures. So far I have only been a spectator in your life, I want to be an integral part of it. I am a healer for Gods sakes and I can't even spare some time to help you in your studies! But that's all going to change now.

"I have spoken to the Head of the University. He has granted you leave for a month. I offered to give you lessons in healing to make up for lost time."

"Thank you father, it would be an honour to be taught by you." Neal said, letting go of his anger, realising that it wasn't his father's fault that his brothers were dead and that his father was dealing with a lot of emotions himself. His father smiled warmly.

"Go pack. We leave in the morning, I wish to spend the next month with family, the most important people in my life."

Neal ran to his rooms in the University wing of the palace. He hurriedly threw everything into his trunk and the foot of his bed. Exhaustion swept over Neal and he fell into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

His body being shook woke Neal out of a much needed sleep. It was his father's footman, so he kept his annoyance to himself. He was told that he was needed in the noble's stable yard and to leave his trunk for the footman. Neal had to rummage through his trunk to find clean clothes. Much to his dismay he discovered that he didn't have any clean clothes. He had been so distracted over the last week by the course work, that he must have forgotten to leave his clothes to be washed. He left his room wearing the same clothes that he had been wearing for the third day now.

Ten minutes later, Neal found himself crossing the noble's stable yard, which was empty, except for two men and two horses. One man was his father and the other was the chief hostler, Stefan. Neal recognised the bay horse behind his father as Healswift as the Duke's. They brown mare, he didn't recognise. The Duke explained that Emry had bought the horse just before the war.

"This 'uns a beauty. She wouldn't be the first pick of a knight because they usually pick stallions or geldings, but your brother picked her because she has endurance, she can run forever, even with a big knight with all of his armour on. Her name is Wind," explained Stefan. "We just want to see how you ride her to see how she responds. If you are a bad fit, we'll find you another horse."

A bit confused, Neal mounted up. The horse was tall and muscular, but Neal had long legs, so if wasn't uncomfortable to sit. The horse's mane was slightly darker than its coat and cut short so it couldn't be grabbed by the enemy and pulled out.

"Wind, huh? Emry didn't have much of an imagination," Neal chuckled to himself. "Let's get moving."

He kicked his heels into the mare's sides. The horses moved into a brick trot. Neal had learned to ride as a young boy and had ridden many different horses. He quickly settled into this new pace.

Stefan was nodding as Neal came toward him and the Duke, after making a number of turns around the yard. "Yep, he'll be great for ye. Just mind her mouth, it's soft. Your brother was light with the rein."

"Yes, I noticed that. She feels great. I'm sure the ride home will be fine. What will happen to Socks?" He asked his father. Socks was Neal's pony that he rode every now and again. He was named for the white socks he had on all four legs.

"Henry, the footman, will take him back with the trunks. You're getting too big for him, so I thought your younger sister could have him. She is going to the convent, but it isn't uncommon for noblewomen to ride, so they are now permitting the girls to take horses with them." Duke Baird explained.

Neal nodded. He knew that his sister hoped to be a part of the queen's ladies one day, so she had to keep up her riding and archery skills.

They soon set out, leaving the city of Corus behind them. It took a number of days to reach the fief of Queenscove. When they travelled through the village near Queenscove castle, the Duke talked with the villagers, exchanging gossip from Corus and news of the war for news of happenings in the fief. Neal admired the way his father could interact with the common class. It was often not easy for the noble class to interact with the common class because generally the nobles thought they were better, but Neal guessed that his father's empathy that came along with being an accomplished healer helped.

Neal was stabling Wind when his sister ran into the stables. She flung herself at him and Neal caught her before she fell. She was crying into his neck. He stroked her blonde ringlets until she was calm enough that her whole body didn't shake with her sobs. By the time she looked up into his face, Neal had carried her to the big tree that overlooked the small lake behind the castle, their favourite spot to get away from everyone else in the family.

"Neal, it's not fair! I always knew that one day one of them wouldn't return from one of their adventures, it comes with the honour of protecting the realm. But-" her statement was interrupted by more sobs. "But, not both at once. Not so early. They didn't get a chance to get married and have children. They had hardly started their lives." She started sobbing again and all Neal could do for his baby sister, as he still thought of her, despite her turning nine in the autumn.

"Shh, Eva. It definitely is unfair and as cliché as this sounds, they died protecting the realm. Even more they died to protect you, their favourite sister and me, their most favourite, charming brother, by killing many of the enemy, to stop them from spreading through the kingdom, reaping death and destruction. Best of all, they died fighting side by side, against many foes, right up until the very end. I am told that their death was very quick." Neal tried to reassure her at the same time as reassuring himself. He hadn't really thought about it over their trip home and now all of his festering emotions hit him and a few tears escaped his eyes. "They left us too early though and even though they would want us to be happy, we can still grieve for them for a while. So why don't we just get comfy here under this tree and cry for a bit?" Eva nodded agreeing. They wept for a time in each other's arms, holding on tightly. Eva finally fell asleep from exhaustion and Neal fell into an emotionless stupor.

Finally his father came out to find them, just as the sun was setting. He quietly gestured Neal, who was careful not to wake Eva. "I thought I might find you here. I tried to comfort her after I told her and your mother, but I forget that only you and I know of my decision to be more of a father. I decided it was best that she went to see you and that I would start my fatherly duties tomorrow. Though, I do want you there to help smooth things over when I talk to her tomorrow. We can start your lessons before the funeral tomorrow afternoon."

Neal greeted his mother, with a swift hug as he entered the castle, his sister had already been passed onto a footman. The Duchess Lillian of Queenscove looked old now, Neal realised. Her auburn hair was almost completely grey now and the 'prettiest face at court' as she was known in her younger days, now supported many wrinkles. She looked pale, though Neal suspected that was due to hearing of her sons' deaths.

Neal admired the love that his parents had for one another, as his father swept in to kiss her on her naturally flushed lips. The duchess stays at Queenscove to run the fief with the duke's younger brother and his extended family, while the duke lived in Corus for most of the year in the healing wing, running the hospital. Yet, they still managed to look in love when the duke came home. Neal quietly excused himself and headed up to his quarters. He managed to find some night clothes before collapsing into bed.

Early the next morning, Neal was standing near one the bookshelves in his father's study, reading a rather large volume on healing, when Eva entered.

"You wished to speak with me father." She said politely, unsure about his early morning inspection. Neal suspected that she thought she was going to interrogated and judged whether she was doing well enough in her studies.

"Eva, good morning," Duke Baird said, looking up from his scrolls. "My dear daughter you don't have to stand there, this isn't a formal setting. Please sit down."

Eva hesitantly took a seat opposite her father on the other side of the desk. Neal took a seat next to her, still carrying the book. The duke went to talk to the cook, to scrape up something to eat and drink and Neal felt that this was an opportune time to talk to Eva.

"You don't have to look so nervous, you know. He just wants to catch up on all of the things he has missed. He hasn't seen you in ages."

"But why? I don't understand," she complained.

"He feels guilty after Emry and Jassom's deaths that he hasn't been a good enough father to all of us. He means to make amends. It takes a little bit to get used to, but he does actually care, it's just him trying to show it, and he finds it a little difficult. You might want to make actual conversation with him, so it doesn't feel like an interrogation for both of you." Neal explained.

"Then why are you here?"

"To smooth things over. And to explain everything to you, while he was getting breakfast."

Baird came in carrying a tray full of freshly baked fruit rolls and orange juice. Eva stood to take it from him and he just shook his head smiling.

"My dear, you have become an elegant young lady while I have been away." He began and Eva blushed, unused to compliments. "Your mother has been sending me letters about your adventures at the convent. It sounds like you are enjoying yourself immensely."

"Yes, I am. I have a number of friends there. Two want to get into the queen's ladies like me, so we go riding and practice our archery all the time. My archery is still pretty dismal, though, so I was hoping to get some lessons from the men-at-arms here at the castle." Eva wanted desperately to bond with her father, now that he seemed to be making an effort.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea dear. Even Neal is going to get some lessons from me while we are here. Tell me about your friends."

"Well, my friend Josaline of Veldine, she wants to be in the ladies with me, she is really tall and beautiful, but she can't glide properly like the priestesses would like, so she has to spend extra hours practicing. I help her with that. She felt she had to repay the favour, so she helps me try and write that stupid squiggly calligraphy. We spend many hours laughing and then many hours being told off by the priestesses for having too much fun." Eva stopping, worried that her father would be disappointed in hearing that she was getting into trouble at the convent. Her father just laughed however, saying that he was glad that she was having fun and not to worry too much about the priestesses, because the Queen wasn't too fond of their strict teaching anyway. The Queen liked girls who had personality and who could have fun.

"She was going to come here this week, and then of course mama and I heard about Emry and Jassom. I have written to her asking her to delay her visit for a week. Her reply came this morning. She sends her regards and her sincerest sympathies."

"That was a quick turnaround for a letter coming from Veldine." Baird commented.

"We have a new boy working at the castle as a runner. He took a horse and alternated between riding and running. He is very good."

"Then I shall have to meet this boy."

"Father, we should really get ready for the funeral now. We would hate to be late." Neal interrupted.

The three of them cleaned up the scraps of food. Baird pulled Eva into a tight hug saying that he was proud of her. They left to get dressed for the funeral.

The noble family and many of the residents of the nearest village attended the funeral. Even some villagers from towns further out had come. The boys had done a lot of work with the younger boys in the fief, training them to use bows and arrows and teaching them skills like hunting and tracking. They had touched many lives and many people had come to pay their respects. It was a lovely ceremony and their swords were planted into the ground above where their heads would be – and in this case their urns – in front of their gravestones, as was proper for a knight's grave. Neal walked up to their graves. They had a singular headstone as they were buried side by side and it read:

**Emry of Queenscove Jassom of Queenscove**

** 424 – 452 HE 429 – 452 HE**

** Died heroes, fighting honourably side by side**

** Protecting their Realm**

** Remembered forever in our Hearts**

Neal stood pensively looking at the headstone. Something his sister had said the day before came to the forefront of his mind. _"...__the honour of protecting the realm..."_ Neal shook his head, dismissing the memory, but it still nagged at the back of his mind.

Neal woke early the next morning and his father gave him a lesson in healing magic, but could tell that Neal was far away. After his third attempt at an easy spell that Baird knew his son had mastered years ago, he dismissed the boy, worried.

Neal wondered around the castle mindlessly, ending up in the main hall where portraits of his ancestors hung from the walls. On the back wall in large lettering read the words: _**Queenscove, the Shield of Tortall.**_ Under it was a list men who had come from the house of Queenscove, all having served the realm of Tortall as knights. A man was on a ladder painting on the year of death for the two knights at the bottom of the list of twelve men, his brothers.

Another memory from his childhood was dredged up from the depths of his mind.

"_Why are you going away? I thought you liked playing with me?" A young Neal asked his older brother Jassom, who was about to leave for page training._

"_I do like playing with you and I will play with you again when I come back next year. I am going to be a page, then a squire." The young Jassom looked eager. "Then after eight years I will be a knight. I will defend the weak, save young maidens and bring home lots of glory and gold. You will have to call me Sir Jassom!"_

"_But not all knights have glory and lots of gold, it takes years and you will probably die before all of that happens, and then what? What will it all mean?" Neal questioned._

"_We want to be knights because it is the greatest service a man of noble birth can give the crown." Emry had joined the conversation._

_Their father had come outside looking for Emry and Jassom and had heard the last part of their conversation. He told them that knighthood wasn't the only service to the crown that was honourable, reminding them that he was a healer and saved many lives that could go back to protecting the realm._

Neal left the room, slightly disturbed by the memory.

Neal sat up straight in bed. He was covered in sweat and his sheets were sticking to him. He groaned and filled his bath. While he soaked in the mildly warm water, he tried to remember his dream. He could only recall a small part of it.

_Neal was older and in a small village. It was being ransacked by bandits and people were being killed. He reached for his magic and couldn't find even a flicker of it. He looked up to discover to see someone coming toward him wielding a sword. Neal looked around him, trying to find something, anything to defend himself with, but there was nothing._

Neal had woken up as the sword had struck. He felt sick. He told his father he wasn't feeling up to a lesson that day and went to sit by the lake.

Baird looked out the window of his study. It overlooked the lake. He could see Neal sitting despondent, hugging his knees. He had thought Neal looked grey when he had come into the study earlier that day. Baird wished Neal could tell him what was wrong, but realised that their relationship wasn't up to that point yet.

_Honourable... greatest service a noble man can give... the shield of Tortall...heroes... _These thoughts were on a loop in Neal's mind. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't get rid of these thoughts. He went back over his dream thinking that it could be a manifestation of his thoughts. A singular thought was forming in his mind. Neal was reluctant to let it do so, he had a feeling that he was about to think something very stupid and that if he didn't go along with it, it would haunt him.

It finally stuck like a war gong from the Yamani Isles in his head.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no." Neal got up and paced, repeating his new 'No' mantra in his head. Finally, he sighed, realising there was no other course and that he was probably doomed, stupid and pathetic all at once. It occurred to him that his father would probably be a little disappointed, but his mind was made up and went to tell his father his decision.

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><p>So, that was the first chapter of Neal's Story. Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I couldn't help it. You already know his decision and if you don't than you obviously havn't read POTS! Please R and R. I would love to know what you think.<p> 


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